


Everything

by neitherbluenorgreen



Category: Unrelated (2007)
Genre: F/M, Smut, professor/student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:04:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3477257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neitherbluenorgreen/pseuds/neitherbluenorgreen





	Everything

“So, if I were you, I’d be on the look out for that one,” her colleague finished while Olivia stirred her coffee.

“I prefer to do my own assessment of students,” she replied curtly. “Whatever this Oakley did to you, I’ll see for myself how I can handle him.”

“Handle him? Psh. He’s cocky, he’s over-confident, he’s disrupting classes.”

“You already said so. But you also gave him top grades and that’s why he’s in my class now. I will handle him.”

Mumbling something about how she wished that she could give notes for behaviour, her colleague left her. Olivia managed to repress a sigh of relief. Of course the faculty talked about students and she heard about Oakley. But she tried to judge every student on herself. See how she got along with them. There had been cases where students had a rough time and only needed some space to get back to their selves. One of the best students had been born in the body of a girl and now was male – he had told Olivia that he’d liked to be called by his chosen name and she had of course done so. Other faculty members had not.

There were so many reasons why this Oakley might behave like a brat – just looking at his grades suggested that he was simply bored and needed more advanced problems to work on.

She’d see how he’d behave in her class and maybe she might be pleasantly surprised.

The first time she saw Oakley sitting in her lecture, she was amused. He was the perfect picture of a cocky, confident young man. He looked like a surfer – probably he had spent the summer somewhere at a beach. His skin was deeply bronze and his blond, curly hair was nearly bleached out. The girls were fawning over him and the boys wanted to be his friends. He was at the back of the room, fiddling with his stuff.

As usual she held the first class short. Introduction, a bit of an overview of what was to come and important dates. She started with the dates that had to be cancelled, which obviously pleased the class. There would be two days she’d have to miss because she was speaking at a conference and one public holiday.

She let them out early, knowing that there were lots of colleagues who wanted to have written assignments in the first week and as she was the first class on Monday, she figured she’d let them have some more time for a good first impression.

As always some students lingered to ask questions. To her surprise, Oakley was one of them. He held back until everybody else was gone and then stepped forward to lean on the desk.

“I heard you’re still looking for student research assistant,” he said and for the first time, it seemed, his full attention was on her. She understood what the girls saw in him, those blue eyes could make your knees weak.

“Yes, I still am. You can hand in your resume personally or send me an email,” she replied and smiled. He nodded.

“I’m Oakley, by the way,” he introduced himself and offered his hand. She shook it, marvelling at how big his hands were. He thanked her and sauntered off, leaving her wondering what might have gotten him to want to apply to the job.

His application was on her desk by the next morning. It looked quite good and frankly he was better suited than the other applicants. He had some experience with the programs he’d have to use and had already worked in a library. Along with her theory that keeping him occupied might be good for his behaviour, too, she decided to have him come in for an interview.

He answered her email immediately and they set a date for the same day. He sounded very eager – probably he needed money, Olivia thought.

To her surprise, Oakley was a bit early. She was pleased, though, hoping he’d keep on being so keen to work.

“Hello Professor. Thank you for giving me the chance,” he greeted her. To her astonishment, he was dressed in a suit. It was a bit rumpled, but he still looked very good in it.

“Your application was very attractive, I simply had to,” Oliva replied and could have kicked herself. Something in those blue eyes had blazed when she said it and the room suddenly seemed far too hot.

“Well, let’s see. You already worked in a library, Oakley?”

“Yes, for two years during the summer. I’m familiar with most archiving systems and I’ve done research for a few projects.”

They talked for about half an hour and Olivia was sure that Oakley would be the right person for her team. She’d have to keep him in check – at times he almost seemed to be flirting with her. It was flattering, but he was still a boy. Maybe in the body of a man, but still a boy at heart.

“I have to talk with some people, but I think I can tell you if you got the job by tomorrow evening.”

“Thank you very much,” he replied and left.

After she had cleared everything with the bureaucrats, she told Oakley that he had the job. His answering email was nearly cute, so thankful and happy. He’d start on Tuesday.

The following Monday, Oakley was sitting in the first row of her lecture. He didn’t talk to his mates and even ignored the girls. Olivia was pleased, but also a bit suspicious. There was always the chance that something had changed during summer break and he was more earnest. She’d have to see how it went, at least the lecture went well and without disruption. To her relief he didn’t wait for her this time. She’d be spending enough time with him as it was.

Tuesday afternoon he was a bit early again. Olivia introduced him to Mary, her graduate assistant and Joe, the other student who worked for her. They seemed to get along right of the bat. The only thing she could have criticized, was that Oakley kept awfully close to her. She wondered if he was intimidated by the others or the new job, but every time she turned around, he was right there. She was glad that she was tall for a woman – and still he towered over her. Imagining how it would be if she was smaller sent a shiver through her. Most of the work Oakley would be doing was in the archive. A big dusty place with older books and papers. She had to get him an ID card and took him there, to introduce him to the staff. Everybody there was very suspicious and protective of their inventory. Of course Oakley won them over, not only because of his charms, but also because he knew quite a lot about how to handle the documents. He even asked if he should bring hand gloves - the guy showing them around nearly hugged him after that.

“You’ll have no problems down here,” Olivia remarked when they walked back.

“I hope so,” Oakley chuckled. “It’s really fascinating. I wouldn’t mind being locked in here for a night.”

“Oh, me too!” Olivia grinned.

“With you? Even better!”

Olivia laughed and shook her head.

After finishing the tour, Mara surprised them with pizza she had ordered.

“We have to celebrate that we finally have a new mule to load our work upon,” she explained. They cleared the clutter in Olivia’s room away and sat around the coffee table, eating and chatting.

“You don’t look as if you thought it would be like this,” Joe said to Oakley.

“I really didn’t,” he replied. “I figured that working with Professor Thompson would be great, but that it would be this great…”

“You’ve only just begun,” Olivia injected. “You’ll see, I’m a harsh mistress.”

“I can’t wait,” he shot back and there was this blazing in his eyes again. Olivia knew she’d have to take care that he’d not get too cocky, but for now she’d let it slide.

But letting it slide became a habit for her. She had to admit, that she enjoyed seeing Oakley on Monday mornings, sometimes looking as if he just crawled out of bet, looking at her with those intense blues eyes. She knew that he was staring at her legs during the lecture, but as long as he was able to answer her questions she didn’t care so much.

Twice a week, he’d be at her office, working eagerly and precise. Whenever she came by the archive, the staff was full of praise for him – he always returned everything to the right place and followed all the rules, even those most others just ignored. She was very happy with how things went, right until one night when it was raining very heavily. She’d had to get something and came back to the office drenched.

“Professor Thompson!” Mara exclaimed. “You look as if you’ve fallen into a river.”

“It seems like the street turned into one,” Olivia replied. “If you don’t have to be somewhere you should maybe wait until after the rain ends. You, too Oakley. I might even count it as overtime,” she said to Oakley who had just entered the room, coming back from the archive.

“I actually have an appointment, but I forgot my umbrella the other day, so I might get home dry,” Mara said, already packing up her things.

“Oh lucky you,” Olivia chuckled. She went to her office to peel off at least her wet tights. She hated the feeling. She hung her blazer over the radiator and absent-mindedly called “Come in” when she heard somebody knocking on the door.

Turning around, she stood face to face with Oakley. Again he was far to close and she just now realized how wet her blouse had gotten.

Licking his lips he stared at her chest for a moment. It seemed to cost all his will to look at her face.

“I think it might rain a while longer,” he said in a husky voice and Olivia nodded.

“As I said, if you want to keep on working, it’s no problem.”

She noticed his hands were balled into fists at his sides.

“You are cold,” he murmured, as his gaze swept over her hardened nipples, poking through the nearly transparent fabric.

“Well, I’m wet and it is cold.”

To her surprise he pulled his sweater over his head. He was wearing a t-shirt underneath, but it nearly came off, too, giving her a good look at his abs.

“Take this, I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold,” he offered. She took the sweater and thanked him. He smiled and was still looking at her, carefully avoiding looking down.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave the room, though or I won’t change into it,” she said after a while and he nodded hastily.   
“Of course, sorry. I’ll be outside.”

When he closed the door behind him, she peeled off her blouse and bra. The sweater was too big on her, but still warm from his body heat and she inhaled his scent. It seemed very familiar. She hadn’t been aware that she knew his smell so intimately.

It were over two hours until the rain finally died down.   
“I think you can go now, Oakley. I will give you the sweater back on Friday, washed of course,” she announced.

“I’d rather you not,” he replied and got up from his char. Again he was standing very close to her.

“Pardon me?”

“I’d like it if you wouldn’t wash it. Maybe you could even sleep in it before giving it back,” he said, his face earnest.

“Oakley, I don’t think that is appropriate,” she protested. “I’m thankful that you lent me your sweater, but that doesn’t mean that our relationship is anything but strictly professional.”

Oakley softly shook his head and stepped forward, trapping her between him and the wall.

“We both know that we want more, Professor,” he murmured and she could feel his hot breath on her skin.

His face fell when he saw her face and he stepped back.

“I’m very disappointed. I gave you the job because I thought you would do good work here. There is nothing further from my mind than any physical relationship with you. Please leave now. I will tell you on Friday if I’m willing to overlook this episode or if you’re fired.”

Oakley paled and started to say something, but thought better of it. With a murmured ‘bye’ he left the office.

Olivia sat down on the chair he had just vacated. It had cost all her willpower to not kiss him. She buried her face in his sweater and groaned.

It had cost her a sleepless night, but she had decided not to fire Oakley. She would feel as if she was doing it because she was attracted to him, basically punishing him for her flaws. When she told him on Friday his face lit up. He promised to behave himself, but she had the feeling there was an unspoken “as long as you want me to” between them. He kept looking at her the same way during lectures, maybe even more so. She had the feeling that he was picturing her like he had seen her – nearly naked and wet. She focused on other students, just so she didn’t see how he was absent mindedly nibbling on his pencil while he watched her.

She tried to have Mary deal with him, assigning him tasks, but there were always moments when they were alone and she had the feeling there was this unspoken question in his eyes. He seemed to wait and she knew she could not give in.

One day, when she was sitting in her office and staring out of her window, planning her next lecture, there was his knock on the door. By now she recognized it well.

“Come in,” she called.

“Please don’t turn around,” he started and she froze in her chair, saying nothing.

“I know that you know how I feel about you. You don’t look at me, except from the corner of your eyes. You try to minimize our contact. I understand. But I need to tell you this: I want you and the moment you tell me to, I will do everything that you want. Everything.”

The door closed behind him and still Olivia stared out the window. Her heart beat fast and she couldn’t help but whisper: “Oh, Oakley.”

The next week felt like torture to her. Whenever their eyes met, she heard his voice and her mind went to dangerous places.

When Friday came, she knew that she would not be able to face him, so she went to the archive. Oakley would have to type up some things for Mary and she’d be safe down here.

She collected some of the things she needed and sat down behind one of the desks. It was dark and cold, only few lamps lighting the rooms, but she felt safe. Right until she heard his voice.

“Oi, Oakley, down here again?”

“Yes, Mr Jones. I need to look at some stuff, change of plans upstairs,” Oakley said and she heard him walk through the rows of shelves. She froze in place, hoping he wouldn’t pass by.

For a while it seemed she was lucky. He went here and there, collecting things, but didn’t come to the desks. She tried to concentrate on her texts, but she had to read sentences more than once and still they wouldn’t stick to her brain.

Finally she heard him approach. His steps died when he turned around the last shelf and he saw her.

She forced herself to look at the text. Ignoring him. He walked up to her desk and only whispered one word: “Everything.”

Then he went on. Olivia stared at the page in front of her, but saw nothing, except his blue eyes, his smile, his unruly curls and that glance of naked skin.

As if she was under a spell she stood up and followed him. He was waiting for her in the last corner of the archive, where it was dark and nobody ever went. The shelves were empty except for some boxes and stacks of empty paper. He leaned against the wall as he watched her approach. She held her head high and couldn’t help but let her hips swung a bit more than usual. He licked his lips and looked up and down her body.

She came to a stop before him.

“Everything?” she asked in a low voice.

“Everything,” he answered huskily.

“Kiss me,” she demanded. He stepped forward and cupped her face with his large hand. He slowly leaned down and touched her lips with his, softly. His eyes flickered up to hers and she nodded. He kissed her again, gently sucking at her lower lip. Again, she nodded and his thumb caressed her chin, before he leaned down again and kissed her, his tongue demanding entrance. She sighed into his mouth and he turned her around, pressing her against the wall. She entangled her fingers in his curls and kissed him back, their tongues fighting for domination, exploring each other. Breathless they broke apart and she whispered: “Touch me.”

His hand found her hips, moving up her sides and down again, cupping her ass. He pressed her closer and kissed her again, his hand kneading her flesh. One hand moved up again to squeeze her breast and she moaned. Her hands wandered over his broad shoulders and over his back. His kisses became more urgent and he twisted her nipples between his fingers, making her arch into him. She rubbed over his crotch, feeling his hardness through the fabric. He groaned and bucked his hips against her hand.

“Lick me,” she ordered and without hesitating he fell to his knees, pushing up her skirt and pushing down her knickers. He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder. His hot breath on her thighs made her shiver and when his breath hit her labia she had to bite her tongue not to cry out. He licked over her sensitive flesh and she moaned. “More.”

He began to suck at her labia, then plunged his tongue in and she covered her mouth with one hand. The other hand was buried in his locks, pushing him closer. He flickered his tongue over her clit and then went back to sucking at her. She felt her knees go weak, but he held her up, still twirling his tongue over her clit and then back into her cunt.

“Finger me,” she breathed and he pushed one of his fingers into her wetness, massaging her inside.

“More,” she groaned and he chuckled against her. Now he used two fingers, moving inside her, slightly curling them, then removing them only to push in again. All while he still licked over her clit and sucked at it. She felt her orgasm approach and bit her hand, still moaning loud enough to be afraid that somebody might hear her. But nobody seemed to and she bucked her hips into Oakley’s face. He kept licking and sucking and finger-fucking here until her orgasm had washed over her.

Looking down at him smirking at her, she had to laugh.

“Fuck me, Oakley. Fuck me hard.”

He rose immediately, fumbling at his trousers. His cock was hard and ready and he easily hoisted her up, pushing her up against the wall so he could enter her.

With one stroke he was in her, making her cry out. He put his hand over her mouth and she wrapped her legs around him. Then he started to move inside her. Slow at first, then he picked up speed, until he slammed himself into her. She cried against his hand, withering against him, her whole focus narrowing down to his cock sliding in and out of her. Her hands clawed at the fabric of his sweater and their world consisted only of their panting and the sound of their bodies slapping together. She felt the heat wash trough her again, starting at the core and rushing out all through her body, burning in every fibre of her body. She arched into him and he grunted, feeling her burn around him. His rhythm began to falter and he came, too. Carefully he let her slip down and leaned against her, panting heavily. He cocked an eyebrow and she smiled.

“Yes, you may kiss me,” she whispered and he did so, deeply and gently.

“Please tell me this wasn’t everything,” he murmured and she shook her head.


End file.
